The Monster in your House
by TheChibiRiceBall
Summary: AU.Human names.: After a family being killed unsuspected by the husband the house goes up for sale.He left a certain surprise for the next owners to deal with and probably die from.Arthur Kirkland is the next owner of the house. He invites friends over.
1. Prologue

**YELLO! YELLO! hey ouo yeah i was going to post this after chapter five of Son of a Gun but i got too excited and posted it anyway n im sorry if it sound wired or something... but next chapter the real story is going to happen and...and...this is my first horror/sadness fic and im sorry if some part sound overratted and fake..im really trying hard D8 if i should liten up on the scences or put more tell me o3o i need all the help i can get! No couples in here cuz i don't like crying men -shot- anyway! yes...um yeah i think thats it :I... lol um READ MY OTHER HETALIA FIC! :u I allow constructive criticism to a certain point and stuff~ **

Disclaimer: I DONT OWN HETALIA BUT IF I DID I WOULD MAKE Canada MINE!

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Prologue

"Hurry! Run! You have to at least get out of here!" The rapid steps of bare feet on polished wood floor echoed oddly in the halls. A small boy and women where running as if the hounds of hell were nipping at their heels. That was somewhat true; but something more sinister than wild dogs was after them. A monster.

They ran into the kitchen, opening all the cupboards and doors for them to hide. They squeezed into the cupboard below the sink, the small child clinging to the older women so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"Mama? What are we going to do! What if it finds us!" The women hurriedly comforted the brown eyed child to silence. She combed her fingers through his ginger locks and shushed him. Straining her voice to a calm tempo before talking to him.

"I-It's alright. He won't find us in here. Well get out of here and go grandma's house. I'll buy you a dog an-" A sharp clatter of a pot rang through the room, sending both the boy and women shaking. A horrible smell of rotting flesh and something that she could point, but made her want to vomit entered the room. She hugged the child tighter, making him burry his head in her plush chest, tears crawling out from both of their eyes.

There was a crack from the small door of the cabinet, letting her see a bit of the kitchen in which they were hiding in. She peeked through it and saw nothing; she let her nerves calm before something caught her eye. A trial of slim was dripping from above the countertop. Once the slim hit the ground, it made a sizzling sound. The hairs on her neck rose up and goose bumps became visible. She let out a mute scream as the child started to shake and shake his head back and forth. Trying to make himself believe what was happening to them wasn't real.

"AHHHHH!" Suddenly the whole top part of the counter was ripped off, exposing both of them to the monster that stood above them. They were both frozen in shock as the monster hung above them, looming menacingly as it lowered itself down to eye level with the women. She stared at it with wide eyes, the child was shaking uncontrollably, his mouth moved but no words came out, he went mute.

It opened it huge jaw, showing its acid coated teeth at her, she wanted to vomit as she saw a piece of skin stuck between its teeth. She shrunk back deeper into the wall, its tongue coming closer to her face. She hastily reached for a broken pipe and slashed at the black thing, efficiently ripping it from its moth.

The thing made a horrible sound as it lashed out wildly, screeching like nothing she had ever heard. She shot up to her feet as it was distracted, scampering towards the nearby screen door. But she was abruptly stopped when a clawed scaly hand embedded itself in her calf. The leg oozed out bright red liquid and the women let go of the little boy and screamed in agony. The boy tumbled and hit his head against a corner of a counter, the impact was so strong a cut was made and crimson dotted his ginger locks a deep orange.

"TOMMY RUN! RUN! GET OUT OF HERE! GET OUT!" The women went hysterical as she felt herself being dragged back. The small child in jerky movements scrambled up to his feet and dashed out the screen door; not looking back at all. She smiled bittersweet, but that was short lived when something clamped down on her neck. Blade like teeth implanted themselves and the disgusting slim sank into the incisions. Her neck gushed and she slowly grabbed a broken piece of pipe, twisted her arm and stabbed the damn thing. Plunging it into its bony head repetitively in different spots. Making the same acidic substance squirt from it.

"DAMN YOU! YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! I'LL KILL YOU! ARGGHHH!" Her voice was raged and choppy. The monster finally relinquished its hold when the pipe broke through something when a loud crack was heard. It lashed out and held its head, breaking everything and anything in sight. She scrambled and limply ran through the hallways connected to the kitchen. 'Better get as a far away from Tommy. I have to, he as to get out if I don't.' She clutched her neck, putting pressure on it to try and stop the bleeding. She stopped near the stairs and leaned on a wall. She was breathing hard and fast, her face was covered in a thin layer of sweat.

She sank down the wall and toke in deep breaths listening to the sounds of wood breaking cease and a low humming appear. She strained her ears and found a rough grumble coming from her left. She felt thumping from her hand, the ground shook ever so slightly. She swallowed hard and let out a shaky breathe. She felt big fat tears form in her eyes and fall down her irritated cheeks. She closed her eyes and waited for her appending death. She won't come out of her own house alive, who was she kidding. She just regretted she wouldn't be there for her son anymore.

The thumping became the main sound in her ears; she could actually feel the sound itself. The bleeding slowed in her neck; but not stopping enough to save her life. She suddenly felt the sharp claws graze her uninjured leg, making slim long cuts that bled. She bit the inside of her mouth to prevent herself from screaming. She opened her eyes to meet face to face with the hideous thing. She kept her face blank and distant.

It didn't waste time staring at her; it grab her neck and tightened its hold on it. She gasped and twisted in the constricting hold and clawed at the scaly hand. But that only gave the thing reason to smash her head against the white wall and floorboards. Her head was marred with the crimson liquid and scratches. The hold was like cement, it didn't loosen its hold, and it just tightened until she felt her eyes were going to pop out. The thing slammed her into the floor, her spine making a sickening crack sound and put one of its feet on her mid section. The claws on the lizard like foot were dangerously close to shredding or embedding themselves in her stomach.

Her vision was going black she blinked her eyes when she heard the faint echo of shoes. Oh god. Oh god no ,please. Her son didn't go back into the house for her, he better have escaped. She turned her head, only for the foot to put more weight on her. She coughed up blood and panted. There in her line of blurry vision, was a pair of black leather shoes. It nudged her face up ward and she stared wide eyed at the man. His eyes were an icy blue and a cold and smug smirk was smeared on his tan face.

"J-Jonh-h. Please h-help me." Her voice was raspy and below a whisper, barely audible.

"Shh shh. I'm sorry it had to end like this, but business is business. I can't help you or our son. But I will say this. Nighty-night honey!"

A scream was echoed throughout the house and outside.

He was sitting under a tree.

He watched the screen door, waiting for her to come out safe and sound. But that was just false hope; he knew that she was dead. He heard her scream. The crashing and breaking of the house. He saw the monster look around the place like crazy and crush everything. But he didn't want to see or believe what he heard or saw. Or what he even knew by common sense.

He just wanted his mom back.

He gripped the tree and slammed his fist in it. He was just nine years old, he wasn't supposed to be chased and be killed by something that little kids thought was under the bed; he was suppose to play at playgrounds and bring back test papers with butterfly stickers on them. But no, he couldn't.

He gripped his fine ginger locks, going into the fetal position. He rocked on his heels, listening to the stillness of the house's backyard. He flinched when he heard a squeak of a gate. Wait a gate! He peeked to his left, and there was his escape. He had completely forgotten that there was a wood behind his house. He only had one chance to get out. He bit his lip hard, hard enough that blood dripped. He couldn't leave his mom. Maybe she was alive and he could go and get her. But what if she wasn't? He would have ruined his only chance at living and probably go to a new family or relative.

He hated his life so much. He chose to escape but get help if he found his way out of the woods; or out of reach of the monster. He looked over the small bush that was hiding him from view; there was nothing in sight, not even the thing.

He felt his heart rate quicken, like it would leap out of his chest and he would drop dead. He swallowed thickly; he dashed across the yard and towards the gate.

He wasn't quick enough and the ground underneath him broke and a hand caught his ankle and dragged him down. He clawed at the grass and soil. Holding on to dear life and trying to escape his doom.

"SOMEONE HELP ME! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME!" His eyes blurred with tears. He tried to squirm from the hold but the tugging and scratching was horrible. It was like the thing was teasing him and prodding that he was going to die.

He felt something snap and he screeched in sheer pain as his held leg bone was broken. This time the thing didn't waste time to drag him down until he felt someone watch him. The little boy looked up through clouded chocolate eyes. His eyes widen in shock for who he saw and in horror for the person just standing and smiling at him.

"DAD HELP ME PLEASE! DA-" A foot was roughly stomped on the side of his, thus only one of his teary eyes were showing.

"Do you want to know why I'm not helping you son? It's because I don't like you. Well it's not actually that but, as I said with your mother, I was doing some business. But this business was a whole lot more than you two combined! So of course, I traded you guys in for it!" He laughed out a raspy crazed laugh. His son was not hearing what his father was saying. "HEY! Don't give me that look sunny. It sure is my fault that you're goin' to die but it was for important reasons. But my reasons why you're going to die are totally different!" He lifted up his foot off his son's head and gripped his long ginger locks in a fist. "First, I don't want a son who's a fucking mama's boy. Second you little bastard, you scream like a girl and are a big pile of worthless shit. Do you understand Tommy! Do yah! GOOD! BECAUSE THIS IS THE LAST OF YOU'LL EVER SEE ME! SAY HI TO YOUR MOTHER FOR ME WHEN YOU GO BEYOND THE BEYOND!" He let go of his hair and was immediately yanked down the hole. The last thing he saw was his son's eyes filled with raw hate and indescribable betrayal.

Hmm. He should let his son live if he knew he was able to pull of that look. Oh well. It's to let turning back! Don't want to get his shoes dirty for a boy he wasn't going to see again.

"HMMM! Hey! Marty you still down there, cause if you are and your done eating then listen up. OK!" His crazed face turned into that of calm man. His presence was calm and tranquil. He didn't look like a man who just killed his own son. His voice was even level. "Look, I'm going to go and do whatever I do best. You can go back to where ever you came from. Or, you can stay in this house if you want to. If this house goes for sale and people move in, have a fiesta and eat all of them for all I care. Just don't tell HIM that I sent you to do this. I don't want to get a midnight date with a pretty picnic basket full of knives calling my death. So, what do you say?" He heard a low grumble.

"I take that as a yes."

The house was up for sale in a year.

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...And i was like that bastard :T yeahhhh... hope you liked all tht blood w but yeah thanks for reading the prologue -derpface- i luv all for the people that read this retarded chapter! I hope to see you in teh future of this story ;A; please be nice...yeah i like cursing...somewhat but i dont actually curse in rl but yeah~~~! review plz :3


	2. Chapter 1

**sorry it took so long to get this out...ill explain at the end cus i want you guys to read :/ its pretty bad in my opinon but it's all i could come with (actually i think pretty good im just sulking right now .w.) ... enjoy! also some random stuff bout this story,it takes place in Connecticut (blame A Haunting in Connecticut) and well i was some what inspired by HetaOni ( awesome by the way 8D you should watch it!) and thts it BYE!**

Disclaimer: i don't own Hetalia

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Chapter one

The newspaper contained a mass of cut outs, sales and a bunch of X's on small boxes with pictures of houses. The sharp sent of a black sharpie marker drew a line across a small blue house. Another house similar to it was also denied; the crossed line faded and it seemed the sharpie marker was losing ink. The person who held it groaned in annoyance. His bright green eyes glared at the marker, thinking that by sheer glaring at it would bring back the ink lost on the newspaper. He stood up and ruffled his spiky blonde locks and went to his kitchen.

"Damn pen losing ink out of nowhere. Now where did I put that cup of pens and pencils?" He looked around his counters and found the clay cup sitting near an old antique phone. He grumbled as he walked towards it, picking a strange green colored Disney pen. Ugh, he remembered this pen, the same damn pen that he got stabbed with from his younger brother, Peter. Odd little fellow he was. He also saw the McDonald's bag too; he felt gross. The after taste and feeling of all the grease he eat made him feel thick and disgusting. It may have tasted good in the beginning but it gave you a horrid feeling after. Like you've just eaten a pound of lard.

He grabbed the bag and dumped it in the trashcan. He walked back to his brightly lit living room and sat down in one the plush chairs, sighing. He looked at the multiple bills spread across the glass coffee table. He needed to buy a new house and fast. He opened up some of the bills containing the tell tale money he owed the water, electric, and mortgage companies. He opened one of the letters and looked through it swiftly; 240 dollars to the water company. Damn, with the salary he makes he would just be able to pay all the bills narrowly. He threw it back on the table and rubbed his eyes in irritation.

He peeked through between his fingers, green eyes looking hopeful at the small booklet filled with houses for sale. He groaned and grabbed the booklet and pen. The small sound of pen on paper began once again in an endless pattern, almost. He stopped short when a house of at least 150,000 dollars came into view. It was the smallest amount of money he could find on any of the houses so far. He read the description carefully.

It was a one family house, four bedrooms and 3.5 bathrooms. The kitchen was of reasonable size and the living room was large and spacious. It also had a basement to boot, but he lived alone, but apartments these days were also expensive to get, and the rents were outrageous in his perspective. But he did get some visitors some times; like that bloody Frenchman and American. Someday he'll give them a good beating to show them whose boss! So he circled the house, funny, he was on the last page of the booklet. He threw the dang thing on the table and laid down on the coach closing his eyes for a well needed nap. His head hurt and seeing the bills didn't make it better. But at least he found something of a house. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

He woke up to the feel of a ruff tongue. He looked up dazed and confused. He felt around for the source of the strange feeling and found that it belonged to a cat; his cat, Ambrose. He flopped back down and rubbed his eyes. He looked around and then to the window to his left. The sun was setting and the sky was colored with yellows and reds. His eyes widened and he looked at the watch on his wrist; he had slept through 4 hours! He was brought back when he felt his cat crawl onto his lap. It meowed quietly and looked at him impatiently. He patted its head and stood up, letting the cat hope off first and following it to his kitchen. He picked up his cat suddenly and was responded with a surprised meow.

"Oh hush up you old man. I'm not getting any younger. I would like to get on with my day before I go and call up the real estate agent for an appointment to look at that house." The cat, as if he understood his master, growled angrily before calming down when it was scratched softly behind its orange ear. He entered the kitchen and let the cat go and went over to his polished marble counter to get a small bag of cat food. He bent over to a small plastic red bowl and filled it half way. Ambrose came trotting over and started to eat.

"By god, your quite gluttons aren't you?" He was surprised that his cat finished all of it, he would usually only eat about half of it at the most. He sighed and went into the living room and grabbed the little booklet. He reached for a cordless phone and dialed the number to ask for a real estate agent.* There was an answer after the a few rings.

"A-Ah hello? This is Ralph Burman's office, how can I help you?" He raised an eyebrow at the weary voice.

"Ah yes, I was thinking of having an appointment with a house. I believe your contact number was listed under a house I would like to see?" There was a silence before the other man on the line spoke.

"Ah yes! The white house on Boston Ave? Ah yes…um yes, why don't we get started and schedule your appointment then!" He gave him all the basic information and his phone number. He was quite spectacle when he questioned about the house and its past occupants. The man was a shut clam, he always adverted the topic to another thing.

"So it'll be on the 22nd of March at 1 o'clock in the afternoon?" He confirmed the man," Well, um, I guess I will see you there Mr. Kirkland!" And with that the phone clicked, ending the call.

'Odd man', he thought, but he shook it off. He stood up and went over to his kitchen to get something to eat. He slipped on his cat's food bowl and flipped over a tray with glass cups on it when trying to catch himself. There was a loud crash and shards of glass were spread all over the floor. He groaned in pain when a piece of glass cut his palm.

"Damn it." He grumbled and went over to the sink, carefully washing his hand and patting it dry with a paper towel. The cut wasn't big but small, huh a wonder how the smaller ones always bleed more than larger ones. There suddenly was another crash to his left, though it was muffled. His heard his cat suddenly hiss and meow angrily, a low rumble. He went into the hallway and there he saw Ambrose crouched low to the ground in front of the locked basement door. He arched an eyebrow at this.

"You old cat, what did you hear this time? A mouse?" He never seen a mouse before in his house but never did he go into the basement before. It was locked ever since he had moved here."Look I can't let you go in there. Look, the door is lo-!" The door clicked and opened. The cat hissed once again and ran away. He was confused as to why the door had opened, he was sure it was already locked when he bought the house. Not even the real estate agent had a key that could open the door. He cautiously looked inside. He couldn't see anything, it was too dark. He decided to climb down the stairs and take a closer look to see what the crash was all about. He felt along the wall and searched for a light switch. It wasn't long before he heard scurrying along the floor. A mouse, he hates mice. He wasn't sure if he reached the floor yet. He unexpectedly felt a switch, he flipped it and the room was brightly illuminated. He blinked a few times and adjusted to the light. He stared in wonder; there were shelves and shelves full of books and books.

"By my mother's soul, what is all this." He walked towards the shelves when something caught his attention. A broken flask that was filled with some purple substance was broken; and right next to it lay a large rectangle of what appeared to a photo album. He stepped over the strange liquid and grabbed the dusty album. He blew on it, large dust particles flying and opened it up. There in the book laid papers and papers of strange symbols and photos of a family. There was a mother, a small child and a father. He didn't exactly know how they looked like since all the pictures were in black and white. He looked through a few more pages and saw more pictures and papers with writing and symbols that didn't make sense to him. He closed the book and decided to go back up stairs. He turned off the lights and hurried up the stairs when he heard the ringing of the home phone.

He picked it up and answered."Hello, Kirkland residence."

"Yo, what's up Iggy! How's it going! I heard your buyin' a new house." He sighed in annoyance.

"For the last time you twit, my name is not Iggy but Arthur! And why are you calling me for?" He asked irritably. The dang American always calls him these strange names. Hmmp! What if he all of sudden started calling him Alfie then Alfred, let's see him get annoyed.

"Yeah yeah sure! So where are you going to move to dude. I heard from Francis you're moving." Of course the French man would know.

"To confirm your statement, I am moving. And I have no need to tell you of all people! Now I must go Jones, I am very busy as of now. Good bye!" with that Arthur hung up and went back to the strange book he had found. He picked it up and brought it to his kitchen table. Arthur opened it and took some pages out, carefully looking at each picture and parchment. There were more documents then pictures. Strange, wasn't the book a photo album? So he decided to give the pictures a look first.

Most of them were of the same family, some had other people in them. They all looked the same, except one. The women and the child were both sitting on what seemed to be a lawn, while the man, had a scowl on his face. He went back to the book and flipped throw some of the pages; he came upon some, no, many news paper clippings. They read **Family Missing** or **House found Destroyed **even **Gruesome Foul Play. **

He found a news article, it was small but interesting. It seems it was about the family and such. It seemed that the house was found empty when a few relatives went and visited them. Also said that they saw the house was trashed and such. There was a picture that showed blood splatters in some parts of the house. Arthur shivered at the sight; he closed the book and put it on his desk. The picture really didn't agree with his full stomach. As much of a man he was, he hated blood and other awful things. He could handle movies but if he saw some in real life, he would fall apart; it also depended on the situation.

He decided to go to sleep. It had been a long day, even if it was only 8pm.

He woke up with a startle; he heard his window being banged. He cursed and got up. He shivered when the cold air hit his skin; he padded his way to his window to see who was knocking. He was unsure, it could be anyone, and by anyone he meant the weird Alfred and Francis. Ah yes, there was also, um Alfred's younger brother. What was his name again? But he wasn't weird; he was just shy so Arthur liked him better than the rest.

He opened his curtains and right before his eyes where a pair of bright blue cornflower ones. He stared at the bright face of his long time friend. Arthur closed his blinds and went downstairs before he heard the complaints of the American. He clicked his tongue and hastily walked to his door before the hyperactive man tore it down. He then heard the voice of the French man he oh so hated. Arthur groaned in frustration; of all the days they had to come and annoy the crap out of him. He grabbed the door knob just before Alfred knocked.

"Toke you long enough Artie! I thought I would have to knock down the door like last time!" Alfred walked right in along with Francis in tow. Arthur was about to close the door and reprehend the two especially Alfred, but was stopped when he heard a quiet voice of someone. Arthur looked questionably outside and saw the quiet Canadian. "Ah, Matthew, I didn't notice you there, come in." Matthew nodded and walked in with a small fluffy dog following behind him. He disapproved of animals coming into his house but he had gotten use to the little pest already.

"So, _Mon Cher_ Arthur, I have heard that you will be moving to a more suburban area in town? Your country life not fitting in with the big city?" France had laid himself on his clean couch, efficiently dirtying the beige fabric with mud. Arthur chose to ignore the demented Frenchman; he had enough for the morning and didn't want to start it off with a full blown out fight with him. He passed by them, going into his kitchen and making himself a cup of coffee. He poured in the roasted coffee beans into the coffee machine; he scowled when he saw that he was out of coffee. His stomach grumbled lowly.

Damn, he was hungry.

Not so long after was his coffee done did he hear the surprised wail of Alfred. He placed down his green mug on the counter and went to see what the commotion was about. He saw that Alfred and Francis where intently looking at Matthew with wide eyes. He was holding the scrap book thing he had found.

"What! Are you serious Mattie! Don't joke with me here; you know how I get about stuff like this. And stuff like this only happen in movies." Matthew had a small blush on his cheeks with a worried expression.

"Mon Mathieu, please don't joke. Are you sure that your father knew that man in the picture. Because I have never seen him in my life, not even when I came over your house." Francis had a skeptical look on face, one blond eye brow arched in question. In return Matthew nodded slowly but surely. It was silent until Arthur walked into the room.

"Alright, alright, what's all the fuss about?" He took the album from Mathieu's hand and examined the picture. It was one of the man and his family on the lawn or something. He gave a look at the picture and then a t Matthew.

"Now tell me, who is this man?" Matthew looked away sheepishly.

"All I know is that I once saw him at my father's work one day. They looked like friends because I saw them laugh and such. B-But I never talked to him! I just saw him there and he left after. That was the only time I ever saw him. It's just surprising that I remember him and all."

"Ah, I see." Arthur closed the book and invited everyone a cup of coffee, everyone cringed at the thought.

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**hope you enjoyed it and now my explination! I didn't really have time to write anything, probably a paragraph at the most i could. And when the inspiration hit me with the upmost brilliance I sprained my wrist by falling on it D: so i could not write but i did write it down ( im a righty so it was frickin hard to figure out what i wrote o3o) yes and well um yeah :p oh yeah in this story mattie and Alfred aren't bros and they're all practically the same age :D except Francis and Arthur are a year older! this is also an AU fic if i hadn't mentioned tht before :3**


	3. Chapter 2

_**you know what song i was listening to while doing this chapter... PONPONPON ._. it gets the blood flowing whn you don't want to do homework (which i did .v.) anyway here's is a chapter to my other story i dont want to wait and finish the other so here .u. a special treat ! (i only used a program for the first few paragraphs to fix my grammar and stuff (it doesn't look any different) but i got lazy ...im sorry v.v) yep i sure do love making stories long .u.**_

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_Good morning America! Its ten o'clock and I hope you had a good night's sleep because today we have some interesting news! Today we have ju-_

SLAM!

He lifted his hand off the snooze button and slid back into the warmth of his comforter. After a few moments he yawned and slowly uncovered himself and blinked. The soft light coming from his window highlighted his waxy face. Green eyes dazed and mouth full of morning breathe. He made a face at the taste and got up and went into the bathroom.

The bright florescent light blinded him as he reached for his tooth brush and paste. The mint taste reached his nose and his eyes became teary from the strong sent. He spat and rinsed and washed his face. He finally stretched and gave a wince as his back popped but sighed in relief. He walked out and into his closet. He wished it was a bit bigger since he owned a bit too much. You might never know when you are going to need suits. He grabbed a few items and walked out turning off the lights.

He slipped off his pajamas and buttoned up his white dress shirt. Next was his black tie; he had a bit of trouble with how he was going to fold it. He finally got it and proceeded to slip on his green vest and brown pants.

He adjusted his tie slightly, making the crooked tie centered with his shirt. He smoothed out his green vest and put on his black dress shoes. He quickly combed his hairs even if it did not help much since it was always messy. He made sure his attire was neat and organized for this afternoon's appointment.

Today was the day that he was going to go to check out the house with the real-estate agent, Mr. Bruman. He could not believe that it was already the 22nd of March. He walked out from his room and went downstairs as he heard the whistle of an iron kettle. Arthur went into his kitchen, pulled out a small blue mug and a packet of Earl Gray tea from the cabinet. He proceeded to put on a mitten and poured the hot water into the mug and let the tea leaves saturate the water as he went to the fridge. Arthur opened a drawer and took out some deli meats and a Portuguese roll from a basket on his counter top. He cut it open and stacked the meats inside before grabbing his mug and sandwich and going into his living room.

He sat himself on the couch and flipped on the TV and watched the news for the day. Apparently there was going to be a thunderstorm later in the day, mostly around evening and throughout the night. There was also a recent robbery in some town, and that a thousand dollars worth of jewelry was stole and found in a warehouse in the city, though they still have not found the person who robbed the house. Oh well, if it wasn't him, he shouldn't worry at all. He turned off the TV and put his dishes in the sink, leaving them to clean later.

He went back into the living room and sat down on the couch and closed his eyes. He was still tired so he let himself sink into the cushions and relax. He opened his green eyes and looked at his desk. The book was sitting there, quietly collecting dust. The matted feel of the cover was stained with dirt. He reluctantly got up and grabbed the book. He traced the faded gold boarder and slipped open it. He sat down and took out one of the clippings. He looked for a date or publisher around the picture but he saw nothing. The article itself deemed nothing of information dealing where the house was or the address. Not even the name of the family was included! Though this particular article might have just been an update and very well known.

He rubbed his chin and started to read it. (A.N im actually gonna try to write an article passage .u.)

**Suburban Mystery: Police Baffled by Andrew F.**

_In recent times, Chief Brown and his men are completely and utterly baffled. No evidence was found of the perpetrator on the victim. Though, neighbors said that the house belonged to a family of three and only one was found at the scene. The mother, as suspected, was found with her head smashed in and her abdomen open, "It was like someone put a bomb and it exploded", quoted Police Officer Hedrick. After an extensive three day autopsies, scientist and examiner John Clerk and Anna Swan found evidence contributing to the case; though what they found was also another mystery._

"_We can only tell you that some of the things that we have found only added more questions than answers to this case. For example, there were no finger prints or fibers eternally or externally. Also, the injuries executed where not done by any human. Claw and bite marks were relevant on the skin." I was very skeptical of the markings. I took a good look at the body and found that I could not think of any animals could make those. I asked Ms. Swan for her thoughts, "W-Well, I can't think of any animals that could cause such damage. The hand would have had to been large enough to cut throw to the bone."_

_I was considering the thought of a wild animal or a species of big cat. Though, the thought of a lion on the streets would have certainly caught the attention of the surrounding neighbors. After I finished my interview with them I headed straight towards the police station. Luckily, there weren't many people around and I found the lead investigator, Mrs. Robinson. _

_I was only able to get an hour to talk with her but I feel that I got enough to conclude this passage. Outstandingly, a large whole was found near the edge of the woods. Mrs. Robinson believes that a tree used to be in place but was still suspicious about the hole. She also wondered why the officers didn't tell her about when gathering evidence. The only reply was that they thought it was irrelevant to the case. _

_When confronting the odd hole, she found a rotting scent coming from it and quickly dispatched people to look into it right away. One of them found bones and pieces of meat. After a few test in the labs, forensic scientist found it belong to one the members of the family. A little boy about the age of 6 from the bone size and the marrow was concluded. _

_This is all that was found up till now. The father of the family as was shown in pictures is still missing. Questions are debated of he was the cause or murderer, but the thought still remains if was kidnapped. But there is also the strange claw marks on the mother. What happened? Who would do this? There are so many questions, but little answers._

Arthur put the brown paper down and put his hands into his face. His head hurt and his stomach twisted uncomfortably. He sighed and folded his hands. The paper above had a woman smiling with a child. The picture he presumed was taken to give a feeling of sadness and angry towards the readers. It has, and probably many bought newspapers to keep track of it.

"Hmm, funny… the woman here looks like the one in the album…" His eyes grew large and he quickly picked up the book. He flipped through the pages and came upon a picture of the same person. He stood up and cautiously stepped away from it. A strange look came over his face.

It has to be by chance. The album filed with the newspaper clippings and family photos, the investigation article with the same woman as in the pictures and the little boy's body and the father never being found. But what of the markings and the large hole, and the album in the house? The basement was locked; does this mean that the person who lived here didn't want anyone finding it?

_Ring Ring Ring_

He shrieked and jumped. His phone was ringing and vibrating on the coffee table. He put a hand over his heart and swallowed. He walked over and reached for the cell phone. He looked at the caller idea and saw it was from Mr. Burman. He cleared his throat and answered it .

"Hello Mr. Burman, I'm sorry for the wait. Why might I as for this call?"

"Oh! Hello Mr. Kirkland. I was meaning to remind you of the visit we are to have today about the house." Arthur's face turned white, he completely forgot about it he looked at the clock it was 11:45 already. It would take at least more than hour to get there. Now why would you by a house that far? For many reasons, for one the area it was in had a lower tax and mortgage rate. Secondly it was closer to his work and he had to spend less money on expensive gasoline.

"Um, as yes, I remembered. It's at one in the afternoon correct?" The phone call ended with a few exchanges on what to expect and such. He clicked the red button and hastily gathered the few papers needed to decide on cost and ownership. He stopped in front of the album, he gave it a wearily look and left his house.

Thirty minutes late! THIRTY minutes LATE! He was a horrible man, just downright horrible. He parked his car and hastily got out. He saw a man with a crisp blue suit waiting out talking on the phone. That must have been Mr. Burman. As he got closer he straightened up and patted down his attire and hair. HE took in a deep breath and walked over to him.

"I'm sorry I'm late! I lost track of time. I hope I hadn't had you waiting for long." Of course you did Arthur! He probably came ten minutes before the planned time. Being a gentle man and checking for any mishaps to be fixed for your arrival.

"Oh no, I just happened to come here a few moments before you did. I was in a panic that you came here at exactly one! Most of my other clients do that so I worried. But now since you're here why don't we start the tour." It took a moment for Arthur to process what he had just said but agreed none the less. "Ah, do you h-have the papers that I asked you to bring?"

"Ah yes, here." He handed him the folder with the documents. He followed him inside the house.

"The house has four bedrooms, one master bedroom, two smaller ones and an office. The two smaller rooms are upstairs and the office here. Two of the bathrooms are located upstairs and the third on the first floor. The master has a conjoined bathroom for privacy. The kitchen is to our right and living room to the left. The stair case is down the hall to the right and basement door left." He took it in. It was large and very spacious.

"Can we start off upstairs and work our way down?" He nodded as they headed up to the second floor. He showed him the bedrooms and bathroom. It was nice and a bit fancy. The floors where made of wood. It was looked like they renovated the house and place new floorboards. The cream colored wall was boarded with a burgundy color with intricate designs. It was faint but visible if you really concentrated.

They came upon the master bedroom and his eyes widened. Two large white windows stood on the west wall and let in large amounts of light. He was sure it was a lot larger than his back home. He zoned out a bit before paying attention to the real-estate agent. He hummed in response and asked when he deemed worthy. The next stop was the other two bedrooms. He could make one of them a guest room and the other, well something else.

"The house is about 19 years old. It's going to turn 20 next week. We renovated the floors recently due to water getting in and the wood sucking it up. It was such a pity, the wood that was used was rarely found in any modern housing, people would pay good money for it!" He chuckled at they went down stairs. "Oh! I think I-I forgot to mention. This house has a library; I don't think the booklet had mentioned that. Not many people these days are very much interested in books or such. An added bonus is that the person who lived here left all their books here!" Arthur perked up at the thought, he enjoied books of all kinds.

"That's perfectly fine. I rather enjoy reading whenever I can. Sadly I can't, I have… friends that come and barge in whenever they feel like it." He sighed irritably at the thought of Alfred. "But never mind that, the house is beautiful if I may say. It's well built and crafted; better than mine I have to say." The tour continued on into the living room. A grandfather clock stood in the corner ticking away, a door next to it.

"The door right there leads to the library. Would like to take a look?" Arthur nodded in agreement. "Let me just take out the key to it. Oh and you don't really need one. We just like to take extra measures so no one goes into places filled with things." His face flushed as he opened the door with a click.

Arthur entered first and stood in front of large bookcase. There was even a ladder there to get to the top shelf! It may have been at least two feet taller than him. The cases were lined up as if they created a maze. He spotted a few chairs and desks near the back ad a fireplace. Classy, very nice and elegant. A wonder this house isn't five-hundred thousand dollars. The question stayed in his mind, "If you don't mind me asking, this house has this library and even a fire place. IT's also newly renovated on the floors and the room count is many; I would have thought this house would be expensive. Why is that?" He sudden became stiff and his face darkened; it was so fast Arthur didn't catch it.

"Oh well, um, you know, this area isn't as wealthy as the others and the agency I came from thought that, it should lower its prices for possible families or movers!" His face was flushed and he was hesitant. Arthur was about to question him but was cut off. "W-Would you like to see the rest of the house, we only have the kitchen and basement left?"

Arthur gave him a look but left the thought for next time, "Alright, lead the way. I love cooking." The kitchen was nice, looked to be in fashion and all. Brown Island counters with a marble like stone top. A different wood design it was nice. Mr. Burman led them to the basement door. He took out what to be a skeleton key.

"And here is the basement. Just let me unlock it…" The door opened with a click and he turned the knob and opened the door. They descended down the stairs onto the cement floor. A boiler and furnace was set up on the left wall while the oil tank on the far left all the way in the back. "The basement if fairly large and the washer and dryer machine is next to the oil tank. The power box is wall parallel to us in case anything goes wrong." Arthur walked around the room. ' A new floor would be nice or maybe a carpet to make it more comfortable.'

"Can you tell me how old the machine here is? Are there any difficulties?"

"No, the company changes the machines every time they improve the machinery. The ones here are fairly new, about 3 years old! So there's nothing left to worry." He gave Arthur a reassuring smile and he nodded. They went back up the floor and towards the kitchen. Arthur took a closer look at the wall and found a spot brighter than the rest. He stopped for a moment but continued on. He should really stop; he was acting kind of like a snob.

They say down around the round table there as Mr. Burman opened up the files. "So, would you like to d-discuss the price and such? I'd be willing to give you a few days before you make up your mind."

"No, no, I'd like to discuss it now. I would be better prepared."

He sighed as he closed the car door behind him. His back ached as he walked to the front door of his house. At the age of 25 he was already an old man by Alfred's view. "'You always drink tea Iggy; stop it you're getting to old for me! So old fashioned, get up to date already grandpa!'" He imitated the loud American, making twisted faces as he spoke. "Stupid git." He grumbled as he turned the knob.

His legs were attacked by his cat as soon as the door was open. Its ears folded, er- pointed back in annoyance; whichever he couldn't tell with its ears already naturally folded in. He stepped over the meowing cat and dropped down on the couch. Ambrose took this chance and jumped on his chest, temporarily knocking the wind out of him. The large cat pawed at him and batted his cheek in slight anger, tail swishing slightly side to side. It yowled and clawed at his tie.

"Fine, fine! I'll get up you obese cat. I swear you're worse than Alfred's when he's hungry, except your cat and not a dog." The cat pompously hopped off and trotted off into the kitchen. But before Arthur could walk father than his coffee table the phone rang. He sighed and jogged over to it and picked it up. "Hello, Kirkland residence."

"Ah um, hello Arthur! It's me Matthew." It took a moment for Arthur to remember who Matthew was until it clicked, Alfred's brother right? He did have a brother right? Yeah he did.

"Oh, hello Matthew, what did you want?"

"Remember when we all came over, you found that album with a guy I said I recognized? Yeah, I found some stuff on him and thought you would be interested? I mean if you don't have any need for it you don't have to look a-at it." He sounded flustered and Arthur was interested in the thing. He tapped his chin in thought. Why not take a look at the material Matthew went through the trouble with.

"Sure why not, can you come over today I won't have time tomorrow." There was an agreement. Matthew was about to hang up before Arthur spoke up. "One last thing, but," God this was probably a stupid question but it'll nag him to no end, "Are you and Alfred brothers?" There was an awkward silence before a chuckle.

"Haha, no but we do look a lot alike. Funny thing is that our parents thought the same and went as far as getting a DNA test. Though, it would be cool if we were. But I have to go Al's banging on my door. See you later." He heard a faint yell and the phone clicked. Arthur stood there dumbstruck.

What a terrible person he is really. He jumped when his cat hissed at him.

* * *

**_i love making Arthur feel bad...(but he's going to feel like shit later ewe) ANYWAY! i hope you like this and bare with my slowing writing =3= i love you and i do like reviews and favs .u. comment i don't mind go ahead! IM SO SORRY I LOVE YOU ALL BUT IM GOING TO KILL EVERYONE! JKJK MAYBE! ;w;_**


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